


All the Stars in the Sky

by dearxalchemist



Category: Batman (Comics), DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Kisses, One Shot Collection, Romance, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/pseuds/dearxalchemist
Summary: A moment of utter silence ticks between them before the rain begins a spattering mess across the city. It comes down in heavy sheets but Diana refuses to move as it spills over her cheeks and falls into the crease of her lips. The taste of rain coats her tongue just before he leans in just enough. Stubble scratches her jaw and then she feels the warmth of his lips and just like that it’s over.// A collection of Wonderbat one-shots.





	1. Ephemeral

A love like his is ephemeral. Diana knows it will be devastatingly short as his mortal life ticks on and on while she never fades in the afterlight of battle. Even so, it doesn’t stop her from looking at him now, sitting on the edge of an old roof with a menacing silhouette meant to strike fear into the hearts of the unworthy. Lightning flashes in the distance, illuminating the dark lines of his face for a split second before he’s back to bathing in darkness. Diana lands softly next to him, battle worn boots barely making a sound but he knows she is there. He always knows.

“You’re a little far from your Island,” Bruce’s voice is gruff towards the Amazon, but she simply shrugs a single shoulder to him.

“I could not leave for Themyscira without saying a few farewells.” She speaks like this is the most natural thing in the world. For her to come and say goodbye, like they’re old friends set on a course to never meet again and it’s something she finds, she cannot stand to think of.

“Princess.”

Diana turns to face him at the sound of that nickname he so loves to whisper in her direction when no one is too close to hear, to hold it over his head. The mysterious Gotham Bat has a soft spot for wayward youths and an Amazon Princess. As she turns she finds he’s no longer in the same place. There’s nothing more than an empty place where he once crouched. There’s a light on in the sky. It’s faded against the clouds, a symbol that matches the one on his chest and she smiles softly, the tentative taste of a potential battle on her tongue. However, instead of following the light, he’s still there with her.

A gloved hand gently plays with a rogue curl of her snarled hair, finger gently twisting around it before pulling away. The curl bounces softly, brushes her cheek and she finds herself turning her head over to meet the sharp edge of a black cowl, “Bruce,” She breathes out his name despite the suit he wears. After all he’s still soft under all those layers of kevlar and protection.

Her nose touches the edge of his exposed cheek and listens as he takes a sharp inhale, “Diana,” Her name is almost a whisper on his lips and she wants to steal it away, make like a thief in the night with a devastating kiss goodbye.

“I have to go,” Bruce’s voice is almost strained and thunder claps overhead.

“So must I.”

A moment of utter silence ticks between them before the rain begins a spattering mess across the city. It comes down in heavy sheets but Diana refuses to move as it spills over her cheeks and falls into the crease of her lips. The taste of rain coats her tongue just before he leans in just enough. Stubble scratches her jaw and then she feels the warmth of his lips and just like that it’s over.

He takes off, leaving her on the building as the sirens echo in the distance.

His city needs him and her people need her.

“Goodbye Bruce,” Diana whispers.


	2. Midnight

There’s no moon out tonight. No spill of rogue moonlight into his master suite, and yet he can’t seem to sleep. The infamous Bruce Wayne is too busy tracing lines in the dark, following dips and curves, scars and defined lines of muscles. There’s a work of art in his sheets, tangled up in high thread counts with endless curls of dark hair fanning across his pillow and tickling his shoulder. Even in her sleep, Diana is something to marvel.

Bruce traces the calloused tip of his index finger down the curve of her cheek, finding it soft and smooth only to drop the line to her arm where he feels the raised lines of defined muscles. She is made for war and love, he can feel it in every kiss she planted on him in the midnight hour. Every press of her lips had burned new impressions and soothed old scars as they finally gave into the eternal pull of their hearts. He keeps tracing the outline of her form, silently memorizing what will be gone come morning light. His palm molds to the curve of her hip and she shifts sleepily into his hold. A sigh falls from her lips and crash lands onto his pillow, warning him to stop moving. Diana shifts a warm leg over his, thigh to thigh she captures him into the warm pull of sleep as she wraps around him like a vine.

The Princess doesn’t seem to mind the scars.

She doesn’t seem to mind the empty mansion or the screeches of bats in the night air.

In fact she almost brings light to it all, along with the wayward lost ones he’s vowed to take on over the years, Diana radiates a love for them all. He wonders sometimes if this is because of the type of person she is, or if this is due to being something preternatural. Her love feels real, but at the end of the day he’s not a believer in the Gods she so vows her eternal love to.

“If you do not go to sleep,” Diana murmurs into his shoulder, lips parting just enough to leave a delicate kiss there, “I will be force to take drastic measures.”

Her threat warms his heart. She doesn’t even open her eyes. No, she’s too tired. Exhausted from the day, even more so from the evening. Shifting against thousand count sheets, she pushes her weight on to him and wraps them both up with a gentle tug on the blankets. Her weight is welcome, holding him down onto this Earth while his heart soars into unknown territory.

“I’m going,” Bruce insists but he can’t help but huff out the softest of laughs, it’s so quiet she can barely hear it but it’s there. The amusement in her antics. It makes a sleepy smile spread across her lips and then she is asleep once more, cheek to his chest, lost in the stroking of his hand through her hair.


	3. Dulcet

After battle she’s still humming with adrenaline. Sweat and blood stick to her skin, but she barely cares to notice it as she steps across the wreckage of the city. Her boots are heavily dusted with fallen skyscrapers as the sun finally parts the clouds. The carnage over the city is over. The last of the parademons are gone, leaving behind nothing more than a whisper of a nightmare. Diana kneels in the rubble and for a moment he wonders if she’s taking the time to thank her Gods.

Bruce is not a believer like she is. He believes in the heart of man, in the strength of survival, but not the Gods as she does. His boots scrape over the ground, past broken glass and the rubble of a once surviving city, cape elongating his shadow as he moves for her. There’s a thank you lingering on the tip of his tongue, it’s buried under empty words of not needing help, but he doesn’t get to say them as her hands grip at the edge of a fallen piece of concrete filled with rebar. The muscles in her arms tense and her jaw clenches tight but he witnesses pure strength as she hauls the concrete up just enough to craft an opening.

“You are safe,” Her voice is soft, gentle. It’s dulcet and soothing, a stark contrast to the battle cry she let out earlier.

Confusion crosses his features, even with the cowl on as he moves for her, offering help even if she doesn’t need it. His black gloved fingers barely brush hers as if he has the same strength she carries in her bones. In the gap of the broken building he sees the child there. There’s fear in her dark eyes, soot on her face and she’s shaking with scratches over her arms but seemingly unharmed. Diana turns to him, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she turns her head down, “You speak to her?”

The Goddess asks and he answers.

He kneels past her standing form, arms out, goggles gone. When the child barely moves an inch, he considers ripping the cowl off as he tries to imitate her gentle tone, “You can come out, we can find your parents.”

The little girl moves with a slow caution. Her eyes dart back and forth between the Woman of Wonder and the man who finds himself more often than not, in the darkest parts of a city that doesn’t always want him. They don’t always cheer for the Gotham Knight like the world does for the warrior watching him with a gentle smile as he curls his fingers in letting the little girl collapse into his chest, her little sobs a slur of a language he can’t quite translate fast enough.

“She’s thanking you,” Diana smiles above him as he pulls the little girl back as she lowers the concrete back down, dusting off her calloused fingers with a few small claps of her hands.

“She should be thanking you,” Bruce answers and Diana sends him a knowing look with her lips pressed together as if to suppress a laugh at his audacity. The sun spills overhead and coats the battlefield with a sense of hope. Life will return here. Slowly, but surely it will thrive again and he will return to his city while she returns to the secrets she keeps from the world, but he can’t help himself when they return the little girl to her crying parents at giving her all the credit.

When they part, she wraps an arm around him in a partial hug that feels too short and too much all at once. His skin ignites with a sense of electricity as she presses a palm to the exposed piece of his cheek, thumb brushing along the line of stubble there. Silence ticks by but she does not let it linger, “We will see each other again. The world will call.”

The words are almost a hollow haunting stretched between them, but before he can ask her if she will answer this proverbial call, she is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Always taking prompts on tumblr @carolferriis


End file.
